


Everyday Magic

by Emmasinthebooknow



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Emma's magic, F/M, Gen, self love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-21
Updated: 2014-11-21
Packaged: 2018-02-26 12:11:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2651639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emmasinthebooknow/pseuds/Emmasinthebooknow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emma loves her magic now, and she uses it every chance she gets. (Written after 4x08. Set sometime after the end of season 4A.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Everyday Magic

Every morning, when she gets in her car, before she even turns it on, she flicks her hands in the air. Instantly, the cold car turns cozy and warm. Music starts playing, always something she likes. The fog on the windows defrosts. She smiles. With another flick of her fingers, the key turns, and the engine revs.

Everything is magic now.

At first, ideas sneak up on her, take her by surprise - _i could use magic for this?_ During a power outage, as people are discussing what to eat for dinner, she remembers her history of making milk boil: _I could use magic for this._ She makes warm mac n cheese, and then perfect hot chocolate, using nothing but her own warm, glowing hands. She holds out her glowing palms to shed light on the mugs as people shake cinnamon onto their hot chocolate. They are so bright, everyone at the table can see their food by the light.

(All that night, she doesn't stop glowing. Later, once she is alone with Killian in her bedroom, her glow gets brighter and brighter. It builds, until the room is fully lit and the beams spill out the cracks of the curtain-covered windows. "You'll wake the whole town with that, love," he says, his laugh vibrating through her skin. She just smiles into his lips. She doesn't need to hide anymore.)

After that, she starts seeing ideas everywhere. She insists on trying everything with magic, from squeezing out her toothpaste, to levitating David's car when it gets stuck in a snowdrift, to braiding her hair. All of these end in messes on her first try, because while she has good control of her magic now, she has no practice. But this doesn't dim her enthusiasm in the slightest. She practices. She floats David's car up and down the street (to David's dismay and everyone else's delight.) Killian helps her work the knots out of her hair, and she magically braids it again and again until (punching her fist in the air with a triumphant "YES") she gets it right. And then she promptly moves on to something else - Magically doing the dishes! Magically tying her shoes! Magically organizing the filing system at the station! Using her magic for ordinary things feels special and delicious, like eating cake for breakfast. 

And using magic for fun feels downright decadent. At lunchtime at Granny's, she levitates a french fry off Henry's plates and guides it towards her own, just to see him laugh and grab at it. She guides it higher, dancing french fries towards the ceiling. This all probably makes her look like a child, but that fits, too - Emma feels like a child, thrilled with the new power she's growing into.

(Sometimes she sees people watching her hands. She looks down, sees the soft sparks floating around her fingertips, and is surprised and delighted all over again.)

Eventually, the brand-new giddiness starts to wear off - she's short on time, and there are whispers of a new villain in town. So, sometimes she goes back to cooking with a microwave (except for hot chocolate), and she stops levitating her car just for the fun of it (most of the time), and she doesn't play with everyone's food (at least not at every single meal).

But whenever she's worried and afraid she can't handle the things to come, she gets in her car and drives to a quiet, secluded portion of the woods. She steps out, all alone in the dark. And she lifts her hands, and draws patterns of light in the air.

She lets it build slowly, feeling the quiet hum in her blood, savoring the faint hint of cinnamon in the scent that is her magic's signature. She paints in the air with her hands, making bright swirls. She sends up sparks. She conjures floating lanterns, and watches the flickering patterns on the trees. She doesn't feel the cold, and she doesn't feel the wind, and she doesn't feel afraid of anything.


End file.
